Search This Blog

'33' review or 'Is anyone afraid of the dark?'

'33', The Wardrobe Ensemble

Incoming Festival, New Diorama Theatre, 19th May 2014

In October 2010, 1 billion
people watched on screens around the globe as 33 Chilean miners were finally rescued after 10
weeks underground. The Wardrobe Ensemble’s ‘33’ is an attempt to re-tell or at
least re-imagine their story. Using a combination of forceful choreography and
inventive projections, the company jumps between the clawing conditions
underground and the media frenzy above. It’s not quite as intense as
one would’ve hoped but this is still a very clever and relentlessly inventive production.

There’s a willingness to
experiment here – for the company to stretch themselves, their story and
their medium – which is hugely encouraging. You can feel The Wardrobe Ensemble and
their director Tom Brennan pushing at the boundaries of their show, teasing it
and pulling it out of shape. Not every experiment comes off but there’s a natural curiosity about this company that suggests they will develop quickly
and significantly over the next few years.

There’s some particularly
nifty work with cameras and projections. In fact, this observation applies to
both the shows I watched at Younger Theatre’s Incoming Festival and suggests - perhaps - that
emerging companies have an instinctive grasp of technology that older companies often lack. There’s an ease about the use of screens that hints at a new generation who have grown up with smart phones and iPads and for whom screens are a normal part of everyday life.

The cameras are used to create live recordings of the miners’ faces, which are
projected onto a black screen that hangs centre stage. Their white-chalk faces look like ghosts, hovering in the dark. The persistent camera work reminds us of the
obsessive TV coverage of the Chilean miners’ crisis and the way in which the ‘show’ above
ground began to overshadow the murkier reality unfolding underneath.

The screen is used to
map out the progress of the three separate drills used to reach the trapped miners, as well as the layout of the miners' new 'home' underground. There is a particularly powerful sequence when one of
the miners – Edison – jogs frantically around the stage, as a tiny torch light tracks
his futile progress on the map behind him (nice work from video designer
Adam Hodgson). The frenzy of the miner's movements and the pathetic progress of the tiny torch highlight the horrifically squeezed and unnatural environment the miners were forced to endure.

There are a few fantasy scenes
involving a singing Elvis that don't quite come off. They’re actually not quite weird enough
and feel oddly tethered to the show, fracturing an otherwise
tight framework. These delirious fantasies should have fed into the
claustrophobia of life underground but they take us away from the
space and puncture the tension.

I’m also not completely sold
on the extended monologues. The abstract choreography is excellent, the projections
are convincing and the sheer dynamism of the actors is bloody impressive –
but the words feel a little bit sloppy. There are a few ‘sideways’
conversations that work very well. At one point, one of the miners goes a bit
dotty when he realises he cannot remember the colour of his fridge. These
little details sharpen up the dialogue - but a lot of the monologues
lack detail and are, instead, pumped full of watery sentiment. It’s a shame as they threaten to wash out what is otherwise a very thoughtful and
effective show.